


Kairosclerosis

by Russian_Faerie



Series: Alternate Universe - Mafia [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Character Death, Depression, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Killing, M/M, Motorcycles, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Russian Mafia, Tattooed Otabek, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Violence, kawaiilo-ren Mafia AU, protective Otabek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Russian_Faerie/pseuds/Russian_Faerie
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is the heir to the Solntsevskaya Bratva and the pakhan is his respected and feared grandfather, Nikolai. After an attempt on his life, Otabek tries to find out who would dare hurt his best friend.





	1. Prologue: Old Heater

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is based off of kawaiilo-ren's Mafia AU on tumblr which you can find here --> http://kawaiilo-ren.tumblr.com/post/159707385115/otayuri-mafia-au-masterpost  
> Go check it out for pictures, information, playlists and more.  
> This fanfiction will be updated every week on Sunday.  
> Hope you enjoy this story.
> 
> EDIT/ Bear with me guys, I know I've deleted this twice now. But I have actual finished and edited it (total of about 14,000 words YAY) and will be following the previous update schedule for the newer version.

They were laying on the bed, the occasional crack of the old heater was the only sound in the room. Otabek’s hair was splayed against the white pillow and Yuri could just barely smell his cologne. Otabek looked ridiculously adorable with his grey sweater and a little bit of drool at the side of his mouth. Leaning forward, Yuri left a little kiss on the man’s cheek before snuggling into Otabek’s chest. It was at this moment that a surge of happiness and peace engulfed Yuri, and he never wanted it to go away.


	2. Golden Blouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking up, she scoffed and replied, “Like you’d get beat up if you went anywhere but Saint Petersburg.”

Yuri’s heels were causing his aching calves and his spoiled mood. This would be the last time he wore these out shopping, despite how nice they made his legs look. Flipping some loose strands of hair, he walked back over to his bodyguard, Mila, where she was idly shifting through clothes. Yuri noticed her eyes flicker up occasionally, looking for threats.

Trying to ignore the pain sprouting from his feet, he picked up a shimmery golden blouse and held it up against is front.

“How does this look, Mila?” he asked.

Looking up, she scoffed and replied, “Like you’d get beat up if you went anywhere but Saint Petersburg.”

Good, that’s how he liked to dress. Yuri was always grateful that his family’s influence allowed for him to do what he wanted. And while being called tranny was never fun (especially when it wasn’t true), it was always worth it when whatever asshole opened their mouth saw Mila or Otabek’s tattoos.

Putting the shirt into Otabek’s arms, he looked at his best friend and laughed at his bored expression.

“Come on Beka! Loosen up a little! Have some fun.”

“Have fun while being your clothing slave? Seriously Yura, you’ve got me buried underneath at least a grand worth of clothes.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and laughed again, “Cheer up, once we get out of here, we’ll go for a ride on your precious motorcycle and maybe get some Indian?”

Yuri saw Otabek perk up and would have laughed again if it wasn’t for the chill down his back and the click of Mila’s gun.

BANG!

Yuri flinched and Otabek knocked him to the ground, curling his body around Yuri as Yuri watched Mila’s body to the ground. The bang wasn’t from her gun. His mind went to what his grandpa, Nikolai, had said the other day.

“You always know when somebody dies immediately after a shot because they won’t do anything but crumple to the ground.”

Yuri heard screaming and Otabek’s harsh breathing, whispering Yuri’s name over and over, as if it gave him comfort. Likewise, Yuri got comfort with Otabek’s chest heaving against his back – Otabek was still alive. That comfort was overthrown as Mila’s body collapsed in front of them, her dead eyes stared at Yuri. He started hyperventilating.

Although Yuri’s family was a crime syndicate, he hasn’t seen someone die since his parents, six years ago.

Suddenly, someone was pulling Otabek off of Yuri and he snapped out of his stupor. He needed to get Otabek and run. Yuri twirled around and saw a man pointing a gun at Otabek’s forehead. Yuri didn’t even think, all he knew was that he couldn’t go on without Otabek and lurched forward, tackling the gunman and getting the weapon. Once he got the gun, Yuri shakily pulled the trigger and killed the man underneath him, blood and brain flayed everywhere.

Yuri just sat there, on a dead man and gazed. He saw people looking at him in tearful terror. He saw Otabek taking the gun from his hands and pulling him closer. He saw Mila’s body, still dead. He saw nothing.

***

Otabek pulled Yuri in, his hands shaking. When he closed his eyes, he still saw the barrel of the gun that he was currently wiping fingerprints off of. Once he was done that, Otabek adjusted his grip on Yuri and shuffled around his pockets, looking for his phone to call Nikolai. Nikolai was on speed dial and picked up on the second ring, with a gruff ‘hello’.  

“We have a situation.” Otabek heard a sigh and could imagine Nikolai pressing his palm against his forehead in frustration.

“What kind of situation.”

“Two bodies, security footage, eye witnesses and Yuri did it.” Otabek said. “He’s covered in brain.”

“Yuri killed someone? Our Yuri who every time he fires a gun, swears it off for a month?” Yuri wasn’t a pacifist, but he had bad memories and claimed it hurt his shoulders terribly. Besides the only situation Yuri would ever need to shoot someone was in a worst-case scenario, which was something usually prevented by Mila and Otabek’s presence.

Otabek felt guilty that he wasn’t able to protect his best friend from becoming a murderer.

“Yeah, the guy killed Mila and was about to shoot me before Yuri decided that he didn’t like that, freaked out, and splattered that guys grey matter instead.”

“Is he okay?”

“No... He’s vacant and trembling. I’m with him now, so I won’t let anything to happen to him, but it would be better if I don’t have to deal with any pigs, even if it is Katsuki.” Yuuri Katsuki was a mafia agent infiltrating the Saint Petersburg police force and was going to get his cover blown if the idiot was forced into another coverup.

“Okay, I’ll get some men out there before the police, you said two bodies, right? Okay, okay. Can you get Yuri out of there? I don’t want to get beat by the pigs and have him caught up in it.” Nikolai instructed. “You got rid of the gun prints?”

“Yeah”

“Okay, I’ll get Phichit on the security footage. Also, take a picture of the guy and any identifying marks on him. And look for a wallet and keys. Thanks, Altin.” The phone cut off and Otabek got to work. Shifting Yuri from his lap, Otabek laid him gently on his side and facing away from the bodies and placed his leather jacket over Yuri’s quivering body.

Otabek wished he could erase the memories of this day from Yuri, who was still staring vacantly and in shock.

Otabek leaned forward and wiped his dirty hands on the golden blouse Yuri had been admiring five minutes earlier – it was scattered along with the other clothes Otabek had dropped so he could protect Yuri – before stepping forward and looking the dead man over. He started by patting down for the wallet and keys and found them when he turned the body around and looked into the back pockets.

The dead guy’s I.D. said Nathaniel Williamson, 23 years old. He was older than Otabek and Yuri but still younger than what was usual for a hit man.

Otabek won’t tell Yuri that.

He then looked over for any tattoos; in a likelihood, the man was part of some gang. That’s why, when Otabek looked at the man’s right hand, he wasn’t surprised to find a gang symbol, but rather he was shocked to discover the Plisetsky gang symbol; a Star of David with swirls erupted from each of the six points, gems embedded in each tip. Looking closer though, Otabek realised that, no, it was not the same as the one he adorned his right hand. Nathaniel’s tattoo had green gems and Otabek’s had black.

He took a picture of it and the guy’s profile before curling Yuri into his arms and walking out the mall. Everyone around them was too shell shocked to stop them.


	3. '67 Ford Mustang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor’s face paled, as if he had seen a ghost.
> 
> “Just make sure you send those pictures, ja?”

Otabek was thankful for the tinted windows in his black ’67 Ford Mustang because they hid Yuri’s bloodied state from the police cars that chased pass them on the road outside of the mall. Once the cops disappeared into the parking lot, Otabek let out a breath and fastened to get Yuri home as fast as was possible, as Yuri was starting to thaw from his vacancy. Otabek didn’t want to deal with a Yuri he had never been faced with before without some help.

Otabek was turning into the Plisetsky estate driveway when he heard Yuri’s breaths shorten. He quickly parks and whips out his phone, texting Victor (Yuri’s older cousin) an SOS before pulling Yuri out of the car and onto the ground.

Yuri’s eyes were blown open wide, his pupils almost eliminating the green ring of the iris from Yuri’s eyes while Otabek took his scarf and tried to clean the brain and blood from Yuri’s face and body. Otabek was just finishing when Victor stormed through the front doors and ran up to where Otabek and Yuri were huddled on the ground.

“I heard from Nikolai, let’s get Yurio inside and into some comfortable clothes.” Victor said, crouching in front of them.

“Okay” Otabek replied, and then slung Yuri’s slender arm around his neck and helped him up the stairs. Victor led them into Yuri’s bedroom and Otabek eased him onto the bed. Yuri seemed to have calmed down a little and was receding back into vacancy. Otabek wasn’t sure which one was better; being blank or being hysteric.

When Victor splashed some cold water on Yuri’s face, he decided that it wasn’t up to him to decide, seeing as he had never dealt with Yuri like this before.

Victor, however, had. Frequently.

“He was like this a lot after his parents. His hysteria will only get worse the longer he ignores it.” As Victor says this, Yuri is starting the hyperventilate again. “Hold him Otabek, the tighter you squeeze the calmer he becomes.”

Otabek did so. Yuri’s breathing calmed enough to look around and relax into Otabek’s side.

“Thank yo-ahh.” Yuri was interrupted by a yawn and Otabek watched as his eyes fluttered, trying to stay awake. Otabek let go and tucked him in, Yuri curling up next to his cat Potya, who had come over at Yuri’s distress. Otabek and Victor turned off the lights and walked out of the room. They both stood their outside of Yuri’s door and breathed.

“Thank you for your help Victor, I wasn’t sure what to do.” Otabek said, looking down at his clenched fists. Never had he been so unsure towards Yuri, not since he first arrived in Russia.

“Otabek, you’re Yurio’s best friend. I’ve never seen such trust between two people than there is between you two. You know each other so well, it’s astonishing.” The assurance fell flat as Otabek looked up, meeting Victor’s icy eyes, not unlike the winter they were currently in.

“Look,” Victor continued, “what I’m trying to say is that… you would have figured it out without my help. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Altin.”

This statement was followed by a tense silence; Victor and Otabek didn’t have anything in common besides Yuri.

“Did you get those things Nikolai requested.” Victor asked.

“Yeah.” Otabek said while handing over the keys and wallet. “I’ll send the pictures to you, Phichit and Nikolai. But… there was something strange about the guy Victor.” This had been nagging Otabek since he saw the gang tattoo. “He has the Plisetsky brand, but with green gems.”

Victor’s face paled, as if he had seen a ghost.

“Just make sure you send those pictures, _ja?_ ”

And with that, Victor turned on his heel and left Otabek standing in the hall, confused and worried.

***

Yuri was floating in nothing; the only sound was his harsh breathing and a continuing popping sound. The popping sound got loader with each one of Yuri’s breaths.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

BANG!

Yuri jerked awake. For a long minute, all he could hear was his racing heart. Looking around, he saw Otabek sitting in a chair beside his bed, passed out with a book on his lap.

With consciousness came a pain, confusion and thirst. He moved his heavy head to the side and he called out to Otabek.

“Beka?” Yuri whispered. When Otabek didn’t respond, he got frustrated and forced his voice to become loader,

“Jesus Christ, Beka wake up!” he snapped, and the sound of his rough voice jerked Otabek from his sleep, his sleepy eyes falling on the, now awake, Yuri. Meeting Otabek’s eyes sent him into a spiral, enlightening the memories of a few hours ago.

Yuri almost couldn’t handle the grief. It tore at him as he remembered Mila’s eyes staring at him. A few minutes before they were bright with life, having fun picking out different and silly outfits to try on. Now they were blank and dead. It was like someone had pulled the rug from underneath Yuri, leaving him to fall and fall and fall.

The pain of losing Mila was like a deep fog residing over Yuri. Everywhere the fog touched, profound despair broke through and attempted to strangle him. It was not sharp, but rather a deep ache, the kind you get when you pull a too-tight elastic around your wrist, cutting off the circulation and making your hand throb. Except this time, the elastic was cutting off the circulation of Yuri’s heart, leaving his chest spasming and his whole body was aching for oxygen.

He felt impossibly angry.

Yuri reined in his tears and didn’t allow for him to feel the residing terror and guilt that Otabek’s almost-death and Yuri’s murder made him feel. Mila’s grief was enough to handle, he couldn’t stand anymore.

So as not the linger, Yuri forced his body up and walked over to his closet. Picking out some comfortable clothes, he stalked back into his room where Otabek was still sitting before leaving through the door. He had to go talk to Nikolai.

***

Yuri knocked on his grandfather’s office door and waited for the abrupt, ‘Come in’ before entering and plopping down on Yuri’s favourite chair.

“Good your awake.”

Yuri grunted and sunk further into his chair. Nikolai sat there looking every bit as kind as one would expect a normal old man would be. Yuri knew better; Nikolai was vicious. Numerous times, he had seen Nikolai with someone’s blood in his salt and pepper hair.

“What about her funeral?”

“Oh, for the Mila girl? Yes, you were close to her, but her family has already decided that they wished to organise it.” Yuri hated that Nikolai knew what he was thinking, and he hated that Mila’s family beat him to the preparations. Although, he supposed, it was more their right than his. After all, she was just his bodyguard. “I’ve ensured that you’ll get an invitation. I believe it will be three weeks from now.”

Yuri grunted again, not in the mood for talking, not with his grandfather anyways. He was too thoughtful, and every time Yuri did something rash, Nikolai would punish him. At least Otabek wouldn’t get angry. Frustrated, yes, but more concerned for Yuri’s wellbeing than anything and would usually give him a light scolding, not ground him for six weeks just because he punched a guy who insulted Otabek!

Don’t get Yuri wrong, he loved Nikolai. But they had clashing personalities. Nikolai was more reserved and was less likely to take risks without thinking it through, while Yuri regularly took risks that were usually at Nikolai’s expense. That made for a rocky relationship.

But thinking about it, there was probably other factors there too. Especially considering Otabek was more conservative in his actions as well but they were still best friends. Yuri knew that, while Nikolai in his wariness tended to lash out at Yuri, Otabek tried to rein him in, to protect him. In fact, now that Yuri was thinking of it, Otabek was teaching him. Through their friendship, Yuri realised, he was beginning to learn that short term joy didn’t equate long term happiness. There was a difference between them.

“Thanks” Yuri says, heaving his body up and out the door. He was walking down the hallway when his cousin walked passed him.

“Hi Yurio, how are you feeling?” Victor asked, looking Yuri over as if he would have any new injuries.

“Shitty.” Yuri grunted, not meeting Victor’s eyes but instead staring at his big forehead that was currently being hidden with a curtain of silvery blonde bangs.

“Well okay, I hope you feel better soon.” Victor replied, before making his way down the hallway.

_Perfect fucking Victor._ Yuri thought spitefully. _Always polite, even when he must kill someone._

Yuri watched as ‘Perfect fucking Victor’ made his way to Nikolai’s door and knocked. Yuri heard the faint ‘Come in’ and that was enough to spur his curiosity. Once Victor closed the door behind him, Yuri sneaked up to eavesdrop.

“Victor, thanks for coming.”

“No problem Nikolai, what can I help you with?”

Help? Like hell Nikolai would ask for help with something unless it was extremely serious. His grandfather was stubborn as fuck, a trait Yuri knew well as he had inherited it.

“Yes, I need to you take over as Pakhan for me.”

Yuri couldn’t believe his ears. He was the one who was becoming Pakhan! It was his blood right! ‘How dare Nikolai do this!’ Yuri thought as he ran back to his room, not caring to listen to the conversation anymore.


	4. Hair Brush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s got some big balls on him if he thinks I’m going to let him do this!” Otabek would have teased Yuri for the deep flush his face was experiencing if he wasn’t so scared of getting attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit happened over the past week, so have three chapters to catch me up with my supposed updating schedule.

Otabek was startled awake, again, with a furious Yuri slamming his bedroom door shut, grabbing the nearest object (a hair brush) and throwing it across the room. It would have hit Otabek if he hadn’t jumped out of the way.  
Otabek sighed, used to this with Yuri who had the composition of a fairy but a temper like a dragon. That’s what drew Otabek to him; Yuri’s refusal to stand down was admirable when it wasn’t getting him into sticky situations. Then it was just frustrating.   
“I can’t believe the nerve of the guy!” Yuri yelled, pacing over to his bed and throwing himself down onto it. Yuri rolled to face Otabek. “He’s got some big balls on him if he thinks I’m going to let him do this!” Otabek would have teased Yuri for the deep flush his face was experiencing if he wasn’t so scared of getting attacked.  
Instead Otabek asked, “Who is this mysterious ‘he’ you’re talking about?”  
“Nikolai of course!” Yuri shouted, sitting up and swinging his feet to the side of his bed. Now Otabek and Yuri were sitting face-to-face. “He thinks that Shitty Ass Victor would be a better Pakhan than me! He even asked Victor to be Pakhan!”  
Otabek couldn’t believe it and suspected Yuri may have misjudged the situation. He had seen how much respect Nikolai had for Yuri, and how much work the man put into teaching Yuri to take over his position.  
“What specifically did he say Yuri?”   
“Victor said that he was happy to help Nikolai – as if my grandfather would ever ask for help – and then Nikolai said, and I shit you not, he said that he needed Victor to take over as Pakhan for him! That’s word for word Otabek!”  
“And what did he say after that, or was that the end of their conversation?”  
“I don’t know, I was too angry to stay so I ran back here.” Yuri said. “Maybe I’m not worthy of being Pakhan…”  
“You are Yuri, there is not one person who is better suited to it than you.” Otabek reassured, and it was true, if not for the fact that Yuri has the skills, then for the fact that not one member would follow Victor over Yuri. There must be some other reason as to why Nikolai has made this decision.  
“Yeah! You’re right! Fuck Nikolai for replacing me. I’ll be the best fucking Pakhan ever. Defiantly better than Shitty Victor and his pig fiancé!” Otabek thought that it was just like Yuri to bounce back immediately from self-doubt. That was something Otabek could never do.  
“Besides,” Otabek said, “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding Yura. You can ask him over dinner tonight.”  
Speaking of, Otabek really needed to get ready for that. He had been dead tired ever since the incident at the mall; he was too worried to sleep well. To put it in simpler terms, Otabek was a mess. When he told Yuri this, he winked and laughed saying that at least Otabek looked like a hot mess, before going into his own closest to get changed. Otabek was glad, Yuri seemed to have calmed down enough to tease him. They went their separate ways and made a promise to meet up in fifteen minutes to head down to the dining room.  
***  
Nikolai sat across from Victor, behind his desk as he disregarded his pride. This was a matter concerning Yuri’s security, there was nothing more important.   
“I need to leave town for a week.” Nikolai explained, “Phichit found the car rental agency the hit man used and I want to make sure that there won’t be any more coming after Yuri.”  
“Of course, I would be happy to help. Did you find anything out about the guy’s tattoo?” Victor asked.  
“It’s very strange. After my daughter’s death I had every member tattoo over the green gems to make them black. I little melodramatic, I know, but I wanted to signify a change of some sort… There shouldn’t be anyone alive with that tattoo.”  
Nikolai didn’t like this at all, it was like his past demons were coming back to haunt him.  
“That is strange... Anyways, best of luck with your investigation.” Victor said, “But I must ask, why choose me as Pakhan, wouldn’t it be more suitable for Yuri to take over for a week?”  
“No, I don’t believe he would be. Yuri is, despite what he proclaims, very naive in the matters of the mafia. You saw his state after yesterday’s incident. If something were to happen like that – which it probably would – I don’t know if Yuri would be able to deal with it. It’s partially my fault. I kept the boy too sheltered after his parent’s deaths. Also, I’m sending him to Miami for a small vacation, just to get him out of Russia and out of danger. Hopefully it will also cheer him up a bit.”  
“Well if that’s what you think is best then. When will you guys be leaving?”  
“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Yuri and Otabek of the plans over dinner tonight.”  
With that, the conversation was over. Victor thanked Nikolai, leaving the man sitting behind his desk and contemplating how he was going to get Yuri to willingly get out of the action.


	5. Blanket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course, it’s something I always struggled with myself. I also preferred to be uncomfortable than having to express my anger, because my parents would also chastise me for feeling it. As if I had to have a logical reason for feeling anything! But you just go through your life with your feelings and I, yeah, I admire you for that.”

“Like hell I will, Nikolai!” Yuri yells, furiously standing from his chair at the dining table. “I will not let you push me aside on this, I can’t believe you have the fucking balls to actually do this?!” Yuri was so furious that it felt as if he would have to tear his skin off just to get relief. Instead, he screamed as loud as he could. The chaos inside of him needed to be reflected onto those who caused it.  
“Yurio please sit down, we’re trying to eat dinner.” Victor’s husband, Yuuri Katsuki, requested. This only made Yuri angrier.  
“Don’t get me started on you, Piggy! You have no say in this, you are just Victor’s fatty husband!” Yuri retorted. Katsuki seemed unaffected, having heard it before, but Victor stood up and yelled at Yuri,  
“That is no way to talk to Yuuri! He has saved your ass more times than you can count and is an extremely valuable asset to not only this organisation, but also to this family! Show some fucking respect.”   
Yuri would have fucking thrown some hands if it wasn’t for Otabek’s grounding hand being placed on his shoulder.  
“Okay, that is enough! Stop acting like insolent children and let me finish what I have to say.” Nikolai scolds, immediately retaking control of the conversation. “Yuri, you and Altin will be going Miami because whoever shot up the mall yesterday was after you. While I’m sure you have no qualms on staying in the midst of danger, you are important to this family and I will not have you in unnecessary danger!”  
“Also, it is high time that you leave Russia, it is quite obvious that you are becoming stir crazy and this is around the time we usually go overseas, so it’s not like this is unusual. While I know it’s different, you don’t have a say on this either and therefore, I expect you to hold in your volatile emotions and do what I tell you to do!”  
“Fuck you, Nikolai!” Yuri screamed, smashing his hands onto the table before stomping out of the dining room. Otabek quickly takes both their untouched dinner plates and follows Yuri.  
***  
Otabek walked into Yuri’s room, where he was pacing angrily. Setting down the plates with him, Otabek waiting for Yuri to acknowledge him. Yuri looks over and glares at the food Otabek brought, exasperatedly saying that he was too hungry to eat. Otabek walked over and urged Yuri to sit down next to him in bed; he recognised when his best friend needed him.  
“I just…” Yuri began. “I just feel like he’s trying to push me aside.”  
“You know he’s not Yura, he’s just trying to protect you.” Otabek reassured.  
“I know that… but I still can’t help but feel that way. I don’t know…”  
Otabek didn’t really know how to respond to that, so instead he grabbed a blanket, sliding Potya off, and wrapped it around Yuri’s shoulders, holding him there as they sat in silence.  
“Do you think maybe it’s because I’m too vocally emotional?” Yuri asked.  
Otabek was astonished, “Yuri! I admire you for the way that you so easily vocalise your anger.”  
“Really!?”  
“Of course, it’s something I always struggled with myself. I also preferred to be uncomfortable than having to express my anger, because my parents would also chastise me for feeling it. As if I had to have a logical reason for feeling anything! But you just go through your life with your feelings and I, yeah, I admire you for that.” Otabek explained. Pulling Yuri closer, Otabek heard him say thank you before getting up and bringing over the dinner plates.   
Relaxed, they ate their dinner and enjoyed the rest of the night together.


	6. Something Expensive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yura, could you please try to have some fun. We are going to Miami, after all… I’ll buy you something once we land to make up for it. Something expensive.”  
> Yuri perked up at that.

They were on the plane to Miami and Yuri was pissed.   
He hated being pushed to the side like this! But he was not surprised; Nikolai always did things that pissed Yuri off, like saying if he didn’t go to Miami with Otabek then he wouldn’t be going to Mila’s funeral.   
So yeah, he was blackmailed and really did not appreciate Otabek trying to calm him down.  
For the umpteenth time Yuri heard Otabek sigh and try to reconcile with Yuri’s volatile emotions.  
“Yuri could you please stop glaring at the stewardess, she was just trying to offer you some water!” Otabek exclaimed.  
Huffing, Yuri glared out the window instead.   
“Yura, could you please try to have some fun. We are going to Miami, after all… I’ll buy you something once we land to make up for it. Something expensive.”  
Yuri perked up at that.  
“Okay, I guess that could be good.”  
Otabek sure knew the way to Yuri’s heart. Unfortunately, the path became increasingly rocky the more they were cramped inside a plane with recycled air. The only good thing was that Nikolai scored them some first-class tickets, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be; Yuri had grimaced while passing the economy section. By the time they reached Miami, Yuri was had reverted back to his grumpy ‘cat state’, as Otabek like to call him while chuckling and collecting their bags from baggage claim. It did not help that the airport was an absolute shithole, with half the airport under construction and the other half falling apart. They made their way out of the airport and hailed a cab, on their way to the hotel.   
Once Yuri and Otabek got settled into their suite, a nice place with a calming beach-esqe vibe that looked out over the ocean, they both passed out.   
***  
Yuri woke with a groan, the sound of waves and seagulls outside the porch door. He was uncomfortably hot, and he damned Nikolai for choosing a place that was so close to the equator. He was Russian born and raised for fuck’s sake! Not only did he have to go on vacation against his will, but he had to go somewhere with Hell’s temperature’s – unbelievable!   
Yuri turned over and watched Otabek as he was shifting through his luggage for something. Seeming to find what he was looking for, Otabek looked up and smiled at Yuri.  
“Get up Yura, we’ll go get that gift I talked about back home. Remember? Something expensive?” Otabek bribed, waving his wallet in the air.   
Letting out another groan, Yuri hefted his body up and into the shower, turning it on cold and then silently cursing Nikolai again as he cooled off – he shouldn’t have to cool off! Then he flounced into the hotel room, got change in the least amount of clothes he could (and not in a scandalous way, but in an it’s-to-fucking-hot-to-wear-anything way). Once Yuri was ready to go, Otabek walked him out to the car and drove them towards the closest mall. Yuri hoped that this would be a very satisfying shopping spree.  
***  
Yuri and Otabek had decided to go out to the beach that day once they got back shopping. The sun was setting, washing the sky with in a colourful array of exotic colours as they made their way up to their suite and had a shower.   
And Yuri was fuming.  
Yuri looked at himself in the full-length mirror that was on the wall outside the bathroom. His whole chest was red and burning and he once again cursed Nikolai for sending them somewhere with actual, tangible UV rays, that did actual, tangible damage.  
“I can’t believe the fucking shitty sunscreen didn’t fucking work.” Yuri swore, turning around and looking over his shoulder to see that the sunburn encompassed most of his back as well. “BEKA! COME LOOK AT THIS SHIT!”  
Otabek walked around the corner and stared at Yuri.   
“Can you see this Beka?” Yuri asked. “What a fucking idiot Nikolai is, he’ll give me sun cancer at this rate! So much for keeping me safe.”  
As Yuri continued to examine his sun burn in the mirror he noticed that Otabek hadn’t responded and that his best friend was staring at the curve of Yuri’s scapulae.   
“Is it really bad on my shoulder blades, Beka?” Yuri asked, swerving to get a better look.  
“O-oh! N-no… nothing wrong with your shoulders!” Otabek stuttered before quickly walking back to the bedroom.  
Strange.  
In fact, Yuri had seen Otabek randomly stare at him periodically throughout the day, especially when they were down at the beach.  
Very strange.  
But not very interesting. Yuri put it out of his mind and started applying some lotion to his burns, gritting his teeth and cursing Nikolai. Again.  
***  
Yuri noticed that the longer he was outside of Russia, the less anger he contained. While he was still pissed at Nikolai for sending him away because, - goddamn it, he can take care of himself, he felt distant from it.   
Yuri was also grateful to be away from the mafia life, even if it was only for a week.  
Right now, on the fifth day of their vacation, Yuri was very much appreciating being away from the Plisetsky estate, especially as he stretched out in the hot sand, his skin glistening with sun lotion (Plisetsky skin was not meant for sun). Yuri occupied himself watching Otabek trying to watch him.  
That was also something different and another reason he was grateful to be in Miami.  
In Russia, the only gay couple he knew was Victor and Yuuri, and they had to keep it extremely hidden. But here in Miami, the men walked around kissing men and women walked around kissing women and it was as if nothing was wrong with it.   
With the breathing room, Yuri realised that he was similar. But it hadn’t occurred to him that Otabek might be the same as well, which it was becoming increasingly apparent that he was. It became especially obvious when Yuri had asked Otabek to rub lotion on his back, and the way the man had flushed and then tripped over his towel when he tried to make his way over to Yuri.  
Looking back, it had been obvious that Otabek had always been like this. If Yuri hadn’t been so blinded by his self-centred perspective, he probably would have noticed a lot sooner. He supposed it just took a little trauma and a change in location to spark his common sense.  
They were both faggots but that’s okay. The mafia didn’t care and neither did Yuri.  
He vowed not to be so self-centred from now on, especially is it came to revelations like this.


	7. Armani Sunlasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I see you have some expensive shit in your bag, you bought it from robbing people you Commie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late...

Otabek and Yuri lounged and swam until the sun started setting and the beach emptied. Once they were the only ones left, they started packing up. Yuri, who had just gone in the water and was soaking wet, needed to actually change his clothes instead of just putting them on over top. So, he took his bag and left for the changeroom. Tugging his heavy bag inside and onto a bench, he starts drying off with a towel when a group of men walk in. Thinking nothing of it – it was the _men’s_ changeroom after all – he continued minding his own business.

Yuri didn’t notice them subtly surrounded him until one of the guys shut and locked the door and they moved in.

“Hey Bitch.” One of them said, reaching out and grabbing Yuri’s wrist.

“What the fuck do you want?” Yuri spat, looking at how they grouped around him.

“I see you have some expensive shit in your bag, you bought it from robbing people you Commie?”

While Yuri wasn’t sure what the words _Commie_ and _expensive_ meant in Russian, but he got a pretty good idea of what they wanted, especially when one of them snatched some glasses off his head. They were Armani, a present from Otabek in an attempt to calm him down when they landed in America.

“Give those back asshole, they were a gift!”

The guys around him looked shocked that he retaliated, so he went on.

“Yeah, they were a gift from my best friend, Otabek _Altin_.” The men around him laughed, disappointing Yuri. He had expected the name to have a negative reaction, considering the notorious reputation Otabek had created back in Russia. But, he supposed, this was America. These bastards didn’t know shit.

“This little princess thinks his boyfriend’s hot shit, now doesn’t he?” One of them says, this guy had a wife beater on and was looking hungerly at Yuri’s bag.

“Slutty princess more like it.” This guy had a tacky tattoo of a cross on his neck and was looking at Yuri like his friend was looking at Yuri’s bag. “Your boyfriend isn’t here to save you, why not get a replacement?”

While experienced in martial arts, Yuri was small and light, while all these men had bulging biceps and seemed as if they could easily snap his neck in half. He was not a match and didn’t have a gun or any other weapon.

But he did have Otabek and that should count for something.

Yuri screamed, “BEKA! BEKA IN THE BATHROOM, THEY’RE GON- ”

Tacky Dude cut him off by shoving two fingers down his throat and squeezing a hand around Yuri’s neck. Two more came over and held Yuri down when Wife Beater rummaged through his bag. Cross Dude strangled him until Yuri’s legs crumbled and he was seeing black spots. Then he sat Yuri down and grabbed at his thighs, pushing them apart. This scared Yuri enough that he started screaming again, while shoving at the Cross Dude in front of him.

“BEKA! PLEASE HELP! PLEASE HELP!”

Yuri watched the door rattle as someone pushed against it. Yuri prayed to HaShem, vehemently repeating, “Adonai, please,” under his breath. Soon ‘Adonai’ is replaced with ‘Beka’ and, after a few minutes of this, Otabek breaks down the door, gaining the attention of the guys attacking him. By now Cross Dude has his dick out, Yuri’s swim trunks are down, and Wife Beater had started repacking Yuri’s bag with the pricey-er items.

Yuri doesn’t want to admit it but he’s about to vomit. He’s never been so happy to see Otabek in his life.

Otabek runs in and immediately takes out Wife Beater. Cross Dude can’t put his dick away fast enough, so when Otabek turns on him, he knows he’s in for it. It takes Otabek less than thirty seconds to break the dude’s neck and another thirty to chase down the assholes who held Yuri and crack their skulls on the ground.

It is suddenly extremely still. The only sounds are the crashing of the waves and Otabek’s harsh breathing.

Yuri is holding his breath.

They’re never coming back to Miami again.

After a few minutes, Otabek walks over, pulls up Yuri’s swim trunks and starts packing up Yuri’s bag. Otabek finds the sunglasses that started this mess on the ground, having fallen from Wife Beater’s pockets and he places them back on Yuri’s head.

Before he moves away, Yuri kisses him.

It’s just a peck, pressed desperately against Otabek’s lips in a haze of adrenaline and fear before Yuri viciously pulls himself back. But then Otabek is grabbing his hair and pulling him closer and – oh, they’re kissing again. Yuri starts crying and Otabek almost does as well. Then, they pull themselves together and go back to the hotel.

***

When they had gotten back to the hotel, Yuri had immediately passed out on one of the two king beds, Otabek laying next to him; Yuri hadn’t let him leave, needing to be close to his best friend in that moment.

***

Pop.

“Hey Bitch.”

Pop.

“BEKA!”

Pop.

“NO!”

BANG!

***

Otabek wasn’t going to shake Yuri awake, knowing from previous experience that it didn’t help and only caused deep embarrassment from Yuri after the fact. But, he was thrashing so hard in his sheets that Otabek was scared that Yuri would hurt himself.

That’s how he found himself with a throbbing cheekbone and a startled looking Yuri, obviously a moment away from tears.

“Beka?” Yuri asked, before curling up on top of his blankets. A surge of warmth ran through Otabek’s chest; he loved Yuri.

“Did I hit you Beka?” Yuri asked, looking at where a faint bruise was forming on Otabek’s left cheek.

“Yeah.” Otabek said, adding a reassurance that he was fine when he saw the guilty look on Yuri’s face.

“Sorry.”

They both let the silence fester for a while; Otabek still typing on his computer and Yuri staring out of the window where the sun was rising.

“What are you doing, Beka?”

Looking up, Otabek watches as Yuri tilts his head over the computer screen, his long hair falling in front of it and pooling on the keyboard. Otabek doubts that Yuri can actually make out what’s on the screen and knows that he is trying to defuse the tension.

“Rebooking the plane tickets back to Russia.”

“What, why?! We have another four days here!” Yuri cries, lifting his head up and defiantly meeting Otabek’s steady gaze.

“I beat those guys up pretty bad last night and I don’t want to spend the rest of my time in America bribing myself out of jail.” Otabek said as he pushed his reading glasses up his nose. They had slide all the way to the tip.

“Oh.” Yuri’s mood visibly deflates at mention of his assault and Otabek immediately regrets ever bringing it up. “Well I guess that makes sense.”

Yuri falls onto his back and they sit, once again, in silence. There seemed to be something on Yuri’s mind, so Otabek finishes up what he’s doing and pushes his laptop away.

“Yura?” He says, gently tugging at a strand of Yuri’s hair. “Do you need to say something?”

Yuri didn’t meet his eyes for a few seconds, and when he did, they were tight with anxiety.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Yuri replied, nervously twitching his fingers and twirling his hair. “A-about the kiss.”

That was not what Otabek was expecting. In fact, his mind hadn’t lingered too much on the kiss, besides the initial exhilaration; he was too occupied by any possibly grief Yuri might be going through. Although, now that he thought about it, Yuri’s attempt of distraction was not unusual.

“I… I know it was inappropriate, especially considering what was about to happen but…” Yuri began, tying his hair into knots, instead of simply twirling it. “I want you to know it wasn’t an adrenaline thi- well it was an adrenaline thing, but it was also a I’ve-noticed-myself-staring-at-you-the-same-way-you’ve-been-staring-at-me kiss.”

“Don’t worry Yura, I understand. It was the same for me as well.”

With that, Otabek leaned forward and pressed a light kiss on Yuri’s lips, a reassurance.

“But we can’t go back to Russia with this!” Yuri exclaimed, suddenly very tense and eyes wide. “Look at how Victor and Yuuri are handling it, they absolutely hate it! Their fighting all the time and their so stressed! I don’t want that to be us.”

That was true. They would be annihilated and while Otabek didn’t mind, he will not subject Yuri to this. Pulling away, Otabek said, “I guess it won’t work then.”

Yuri was upset by this and leaned in to embrace Otabek, finding comfort in the familiar hugs that they shared. If they couldn’t be together then they would find comfort in what they did have – their friendship. They cuddled like that for the rest of the sunrise, until Otabek broke away and said that they had to pack; their plane left in a few hours.


	8. Soft Banging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is he alright, should I get the stewardess?”

Otabek and Yuri boarded the plane and were off on their early plane to Russia. Both of them were relieved that the authorities either hadn’t found the bodies of Yuri’s attackers, or they hadn’t yet linked it to them. It wouldn’t be long before they figured it out though, especially with the security footage that the pigs will, hopefully, never get their hands on. Yuri knew that they wouldn’t though; Phichit was the best at hacking.  

But that didn’t negate their feelings of anxiety, or Yuri’s feeling of fear.

When Yuri closed his eyes, he still saw his attackers.

When Otabek looked over, he only saw the hands on Yuri’s neck. They had left vivid markings that were turning into purple welts.

Otabek knew that the earlier kissing confession was a side track from how Yuri was really feeling, and this was proven time and time again on not only their way to the airport, but also as Yuri lay his head on Otabek’s shoulder, dozing off. Yuri jumped at loud noises – something Otabek hadn’t seen since he was first brought to the Plisetsky estate – and when someone called out, “Bitch!”, Otabek had to put a steading hand on Yuri’s arm as he almost collapsed in fright. Now, as Yuri curled up on Otabek, he could see the effects; Yuri’s pallor and his clenched jaw even in sleep.

Otabek wished he could have drawn out the beating of Yuri’s disgusting attackers, maybe killed a few more of them.

Otabek put his head back to rest, content with Yuri’s head resting on his, depending on him.

No one was ever going to hurt his Yura again.

***

Otabek was awoken by a soft banging and someone tapping his shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir?” A woman asked, “I think your friend there is having a really bad dream.”

Hazily blinking, Otabek looking around to a violently tremoring Yuri, whose head hit the side of the plane’s wall every few seconds. Otabek startled, a lot more awake then he was a few seconds ago. A man’s voice asked,

“Is he alright, should I get the stewardess?”

Otabek ignored them in favour of shaking Yuri awake. When Yuri finally managed to drag himself away from his dreams, his body jerked up and frantic gasps could be heard. Otabek’s stomach hurt from a stray elbow. Frantically looking everywhere, Yuri didn’t calm until his eyes landed on Otabek’s tight expression.

“Yura?” Otabek said, empathetically. He understood what it was like to have nightmares, but he couldn’t imagine what Yuri was going through.

Yuri said nothing. All he did was list forward and into Otabek’s chest.

“It’s going to be okay Yura, I’ve got you.” Otabek murmured. Looking around, he saw the flight stewardess and a random man staring at them. With a slight glare, they scurried away. Yuri fell asleep again, not waking until they landed in Russia.

At touchdown, Otabek felt a weight reassert itself onto his shoulders.


	9. Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come back, Beka.” Yuri says, looking up at him and jostling Otabek’s arms to Yuri’s waist. “Come back and be here with me… Don’t you dare die.”

Yuri looked out the window of the sedan despondently. As much as he had protested going to Miami, going back to the glum of Saint Petersburg was pulling his already depressed mood further downwards.

Yuri knew though that it was better than being in Miami. Just the thought of that place made him shudder with phantom hands and harsh breaths. Yuri felt incredibly dirty, as if that man had done exactly what he set out to do. Thank God that Otabek saved him.

The driver parked in front of the Plisetsky estate.

Otabek tugged at Yuri’s hair, “Time to get up Yura.”

Yuri continued staring out his window for a moment, before heaving his body up and walking into his home, ignoring the cheerful welcomes of the staff and his family, instead heading directly to his room. He continued to throw himself onto his bed and curled up under the covers and staring at a photograph of Otabek and him at some club.

That’s exactly where Otabek found him, an hour later, staring at that photograph.

***

Otabek watched as Yuri ignored everyone and slowly made his way in the direction of Yuri’s bedroom. Otabek wanted nothing more than to go after him, but he got a text when they landed in Russia, telling Otabek to immediately go to Nikolai’s office. So, ignoring the sense of discontent he felt at leaving Yuri to his feelings, Otabek ordered his thoughts and got ready to face Nikolai.

It was never an easy thing to tell a man that his pride and joy had been hurt. Otabek thinks of those silly jokes about fathers with pretty daughters needing shotguns and he couldn’t help but think that applied the Yuri and Nikolai. While Nikolai wasn’t Yuri’s Papa, a boy blessed with beauty and rage like Yuri, needed protection.

Otabek hated that he let what did happen occur.

Otabek hated that he was almost too late.

Knocking on the boss’s door, Otabek walked into Nikolai’s office.

“Welcome back Altin. I heard that the holiday didn’t go as planned.” Nikolai greeted Otabek, a gruff frown on his face.

Otabek could tell Nikolai was horribly angry.

“I dealt with it.” Otabek reassured. “Even those who were left alive, won’t be the same.”

“Next time, don’t leave any of them alive.”

Otabek couldn’t agree more. He vowed that he would do better next time.

“Moving on,” Nikolai began, “I found some interesting things in my investigation.”

That’s right. The whole reason that Otabek and Yuri were sent away, and Victor became temporarily Pakhan was so that Nikolai could personally see to Yuri’s assassin, while knowing that nothing would come of his grandson. Otabek sure messed that planned up.

“Through the wallet you handed over, Phichit tracked the guy to a car rental agency. With a little persuasion, they gave over the kid’s address. It turned out to be some shit motel in the red-light district of Saint Petersburg. Luckily, being such a shit place, room cleaning hadn’t shown up yet and I found old cigarettes. I took them as samples and Phichit should be getting back with the DNA in the next week or so.”

“Due to increasing pressure within the organisation, I need you to take over the search. I’ll email the address and other details to you and then I want you to leave tomorrow morning. Try to find who this kid’s boss’ are and if they’re still around. If you find the bosses, take them in downstairs and I’ll get some answers out of them. Hopefully it’ll be worth the cost of the clean-up crew.”

Otabek didn’t like that he was being sent away from Yuri right now. Not that he liked it at any time, he was hired to be his friend not a mafia lacky, but Otabek understood that Nikolai didn’t trust anyone but him to do this; Otabek thought that maybe Nikolai understood how much he loves Yuri. He just hoped that Yuri didn’t take it badly.

Giving a quick affirmation, Otabek briskly walked out the door and to Yuri’s room – defiantly not eager to impart the news.

Otabek walked into Yuri’s room and found him staring at a photograph jammed into Yuri’s mirror. It was of them at Russia Day, celebrating despite their lack of patriotism. Otabek wasn’t Russian and Yuri didn’t particularly care for the country or its government, especially when he rather follow the lax laws of the mafia. In fact, Yuri was passionate about how the government could stay out of his business. He became very vocal about this anytime Yuri was faced with red tape. But, always the partier, Yuri would look for any reason to celebrate.

In the photo, they were both grinning at the camera. Otabek had an arm around a tipsy Yuri. Otabek missed a time when they were so carefree. Ever since Mila’s death, it seemed as if Yuri couldn’t catch a break between nightmares and real life.

Pulling himself out of reminiscing, Otabek went over and sat next to Yuri’s curled up form, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. The boy looked up at him and gave a slight smile and turned over to allow Otabek more space.

“How are you feeling Yura?” Otabek whispers, watching as Yuri’s blonde hair floats with his breath.

“Like shit.”

They let that sit between them for a few moments before Otabek decides to just rip off the band aid.

“Nikolai is sending me away for a while, investigating that guy you shot.”

At the mention of Yuri’s first kill, he goes sickly pale. Otabek immediately reprimands himself for bringing it up; he remembered his first kill and the sleepless nights afterwards, feeling destroyed with the guilt of it. Yuri had been there for him though, and Otabek is determined to return the favour.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Otabek asked. He didn’t need to clarify what, Yuri already knew. Otabek regretted not asking this question earlier as he had seen the symptoms of it throughout the past two weeks; the restlessness in the bags under Yuri’s eyes and the guilt in his posture and how he flinched at the sight of Otabek’s guns from his shoulders.

Otabek watches Yuri’s face as he struggles to answer.

“I… I can’t sleep.” Yuri harshly whispers, his head bowed, and fingers clenched and white in his lap. “I close my eyes and he’s there and she’s there… I still hear it in my dreams; the guns are so loud and violent in my dreams that it shakes me to my core and leaves me separated for the rest of the day. As if I can’t attach myself to my body… as if my body does what it does, and I just watch through my eyes.”

Silence in the few moments that Otabek grasps Yuri to him, as if he can squeeze the memories out of Yuri’s mind through his hug. Otabek wished that he had that power.

“Come back, Beka.” Yuri says, looking up at him and jostling Otabek’s arms to Yuri’s waist. “Come back and be here with me… Don’t you dare die.”

Otabek was taken aback by Yuri’s otherworldliness in this moment. If Yuri commanded him, Otabek would do whatever he could to achieve it, despite the dangers of his assignment might do to prevent him. As soon as Yuri said this, Otabek knew nothing would keep him away.

“I promise.”

They fell asleep in each other’s arms and Otabek was gone in the morning.


	10. Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank god for bullet proof windows!

Otabek kissed Yuri’s cheek when he woke up the next morning, only slightly lingering before he went off, backed his bags and hit the road. The trip was long and boring, made even worse by the lack of his motorcycle for novelty; he needed to stay inconspicuous, so he chose a mafia black sedan.

He arrived at the crap motel Yuri’s assassin was staying after three hours driving. The sun was low in the sky, already setting with the short Russian winter days and Otabek was tired and missing Yuri. Otabek went to the door, number 28, and picked it open.

The door creaked open and Otabek was met with a room that one would not expect of an assassin; things that contained DNA innocently and ignorantly were scattered around. Otabek scoffed, _the guy must have been an amateur._

Otabek looked around a little, not really noticing and was about to decide to persuade the staff for information when the door rattled. Otabek froze and felt a shiver down his neck. He did not know who was behind that door – it could be room cleaning for all he knew – but he hid to be safe rather than sorry. From his place under the bed, Otabek watched as two pairs of feet – one laced up in and intricate heeled shoe and one in heavy and midnight combat boots – made their way around the room. 

“Thank god that brat killed Nathaniel, now we don’t have to bother with him ourselves!” The woman said.

“Yeah, well don’t be too thankful because now we have to kidnap the brat ourselves.” The man replied.

_Kidnap?_

“I was just saying! You know, _silver linings?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah whatever…”

The air was tense with their almost-argument and Otabek held his breath as they walked by the bed. He knew that if the couple found him now, he would be killed.

“Stupid idiot, Nathaniel left all these cigarettes and bottles here, I thought I told him to clean them up when we came drinking over here a month ago!” The man complained.

“Urgh, we should probably clean this up.”

Otabek listened as the cleaned up all the evidence of their existence, too late of course, Nikolai had already scoured the place. When they were done, they didn’t even bother to close the door to the hotel. Otabek waited thirty seconds before following them out and getting into the sedan. He would need to follow them to their base.

Otabek saw a glimpse of them get into a flashy cherry car and they pull out onto the road, heading south. He followed them for about half an hour as they drove to an increasingly remote area. Soon enough, the cherry car turned down a deserted, dirt path with a sign that said площадь.  Otabek decided to park his car and go on foot, especially since he would stick out like a sour thumb if he went through with the car. Otabek drove up and parked his car a few meters down from the street entrance.

Trudging up the path, Otabek walked for about twenty minutes before coming upon a slanting farm house that had the cherry car parked in front of it. He quietly made his way into the farm house and was startled at the faces of the man and woman he had followed here; they looked surprisingly similar. It was uncanny, but Otabek couldn’t figure out who they remined him of, so he put it out of his mind to think about later.

The couple seemed to be doing some type of building and were dirty from it. It seemed as if they were fortifying the building, although if Otabek were to do it, he would have just torn down the building and made it again stronger. They possibly didn’t have time for that so all they were doing was reinforcing the slanting walls with big slats that leaned on one long wooden beam, which was pushed into the dirt ground.

In the back right corner, there was a large, cubicle like area that was made from brick and had a small window in it. Otabek couldn’t see anything from here, but there were no lights on in there. Curiously, Otabek stepped forward and sneaked across the barn to the brick cubicle. He wanted to know if they were storing any dangerous weapons or drugs in there, but when he got there, all that the small room stored was a singular mattress.

Otabek started to make his way back leave, excited to tell Nikolai that he found the base of who he believed were the people who hired Nathanial, when the couple turned around and made their way over to the entrance as well. The only thing that was covering Otabek was a small jut in the wall where an old room must have been, but the walls were partially collapsed. Otabek held his breath as they walked passed and thought he was safe until the woman noticed large footprint on the ground; large _Otabek_ footprints.

“Honey… I think we have company.”

Otabek’s chest seized and he tensed his body, his mind rabidly flicking through different possibilities.

He was incredibly conscious of how vulnerable he was in this moment.

Otabek didn’t have many choices, considering they probably would soon notice the his footprints lead to his hiding spot, so in a moment of desperation, he flung out his gun and chucked his body from his hiding spot. He had hoped to catch them by surprise, but they had already moved on and he was aiming in the wrong place. His fear had prevented him from keeping track of the couple’s movements.

Instead, Otabek’s arm hairs raised as he heard a click of a gun and turned to face the man and woman as they sneered at him from the handle of the gun.

 _This was the second time in as many weeks that he faced down the barrel of the gun_ , was Otabek’s first thought.

His second was the recurring shock at how familiar they looked. Maybe they were from a gang back in Kazakhstan – someone from his childhood that he had blocked out?

“You better tell us who send you, little dog, or else I’m going to have to shoot your brains out.” The man, who was holding the gun, sneered at him. Otabek had no doubt that, whether he answered truthfully or at all, there was no way the man wouldn’t shoot him.

Otabek slowly put his hands up and tried to fib his way out of the situation. Putting on a phony accent, he replied,

“I’m every so sorry, ma’am, I’m not from around these parts… just a tourist I swear! I just wandered of the path, I was curious to see what was down here. Please don’t kill me! I didn’t realise it was someone’s property, I was not meaning to be trespassing.” Otabek hoped he pulled off the Western Russian accent well enough that they would believe him, but his hopes were tarnished when they both squinted their eyes at them.

Otabek tried to discreetly move away, but the moment he moved an inch, the man shot, skimming Otabek’s arm. He had the clutch his teeth so hard that he bit through his tongue to stop him from yelling out. Instead of just staying in his spot, they would probably shoot him lethally next, he made a run for it. He feigned to his left before making a sharp turn to his right and sprinted in a weaving pattern to get out of the barn. The resounding BANG! BANG! BANG! caused Otabek’s ears to ring and heart to race as he continued to sprint back down the dirt path.

The twenty-minute walk turned into a fifteen-minute sprint, and he somehow managed to make his way into the sedan and pulled out of parking by the time the couple caught up and starting firing at his car.

_Thank god for bullet proof windows!_

Otabek made sure to keep driving as fast as he could on the bumpy, rural streets, until he was sure that they didn’t chase him with their flashy car. When he thought he had escaped the couple, Otabek tore a piece of his shirt to tourniquet the slight bullet wound on his right shoulder. It was only when he started to relax did he notice his sweaty and shaky hands and the nauseous roll of his stomach.


	11. Morphine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can die from a bullet wound, Beka!

Otabek decided that he had enough information to appease Nikolai and kept driving back to the Plisetsky estate. When he got there, he was met with the full moon and the number, 12:30, on his dash. Midnight then.

Parking the sedan, he made his way inside and down to the medical bay. There, the live-in doctor, Mrs. Gibson (an immigrant from Canada), was tending to some other patients. After a few moments, she made her way over and urged Otabek to sit down on one of the gurney-like beds.

“Now, now. What happened here, Mr Otabek Altin?” She chided, “I thought you were more careful than this.”

Otabek thought he was too, but it seemed like the couple he was faced against were more observant than the regular mafia lackey he dealt with, especially since the woman had noticed his footprints.

“Yeah, I know.” Otabek replied and winced in pain when she put a canula into his forearm. As she flushed it with saline and then hooked it up to morphine, Mrs. Gibson clucked her tongue and shook her head. Otabek didn’t appreciate the judgement but kept silent; no one wanted to be on the bad side of Mrs. Gibson. She went over to the storage room to Otabek’s right to get some suturing supplies and by the time she got back, Otabek was asleep due to the drowsing effects of morphine and his own lack of sleep.

***

Otabek woke up to a warm feeling on his stomach and chest. Scrunching open his eyes, he chuckled at the sight of Potya and her owner on his chest and stomach respectively. Closing his eyes again, Otabek went into a far more peaceful sleep knowing that his best friend was by his side.

***

Otabek and Yuri sat together in front of the fire, drinking hot chocolate and basking in each other’s presence. When Otabek had fully woken up, Yuri had freaked out, yelling at him for not being careful and, _you can die from a bullet wound, Beka!_ Once Yuri calmed down enough, Otabek quickly updated Nikolai on what he found and joined Yuri in his bedroom. Now that they had calmed down now, Yuri’s feet were in Otabek lap and they shared their comfortable silence. Yuri was the first to break the silence.

“Beka, I… I want to take back what I said in Miami… about the – you know – dating thing.” Yuri started. Otabek, startled by the abruptness of Yuri’s confession, simply looked over to a blushing Yuri who was determinately looking into his lap.

“What brought this on, Yura?” Otabek asked, heart thudding at the possibilities this conversation held. While Otabek was happy to be Yuri’s best friend, in fact being close to Yuri was a blessing within itself, he couldn’t help but yearn for more. That kiss after Otabek saved Yuri, while not feeling right given the situation, lit a flame in Otabek’s gut he hadn’t realised had been there for a long time. He loved Yuri in every way one person could.

“Well… it was Katsuki and Victor’s wedding anniversary when you were in hospital. And I just sat there, looking at you and thinking how you could have almost died and thought that, in the time that we have left, even if we’re faced with hate, I want to be with you because I don’t think I can stand to live a life the is not by your side in every way I can be.” Yuri explained. Otabek was taken aback by how mature Yuri sounded, something that was rare for him, and felt his heart warm.

“Are you sure… what about…?” Otabek struggled to complete his sentence. What about what? There were so many ways this could go wrong; what about Yuri’s grandpa, what about the government, what about Otabek’s parent’s?

“We don’t have to worry about anything like that. As long as we’re together, we’ll work it out.” Yuri said, and then snickered. “Jesus Christ Otabek, you’ve turned me into a cheese ball!”

They both laughed for a few seconds but then, led by a sudden urge, Otabek placed a hand on Yuri’s cheek. Both their laughs simmered down into pleasant silence, and Yuri leaned into Otabek’s hand and they smiled. Otabek leaned in and kissed Yuri gently of the lips.

“Okay.” Otabek said.

“Okay.” Yuri replied.

Chapter 11: Needle

Yuri and Otabek decided to go out of the city for a few days to try out their tenderly new relationship, without the heavy pressure of Saint Petersburg. That morning though, they had a slight incidence where Yuri had a minor panic attack over a pair of white sunglasses, like the ones he had worn in Miami. That by itself would have set them back an hour, but then Phichit finally got the identities of Yuri’s attackers and any accomplices from the cigarette DNA and Otabek was called in for a quick meeting in Nikolai’s office.

Sitting in front of Nikolai’s desk, Otabek observed the parlour of disbelief on Nikolai’s face, which would be soon replicated on Otabek’s own when he was told the news…

“The DNA sample came back positive for Nathanial’s DNA on one or two of them, but for the rest…” Phichit explained, “It was the DNA of both Anastayia and Daniil Plisetsky.”

Yuri’s parents.

Otabek felt ill at the fact his boyfriend’s parents wanted to kidnap their son.

Otabek felt an overwhelming surge of need to kill them to make them pay for what they did.

Anastayia and Daniil had totally torn apart Yuri’s life when he was ten. It was what had caused Otabek to be brought into the mafia, tasked with being Yuri’s friend. Yuri had witnessed his parents, now confirmed _fake_ death, and had fallen into a deep melancholy. He wouldn’t eat or sleep or drink or talk or play or _anything._ In fact, most of the time, Yuri would fall into a deep, hazed existence, not unlike how he was after Mila’s death. Otabek, of course, had only been brought in after Yuri started to defrost from his state of being and was just there to keep Yuri lively. But Otabek still saw the side effects… Every year, July 23 rd, Yuri would not leave his room or eat or sleep or drink or talk or play or _anything_ for a whole day. And the weeks following and leading up to the twenty-third were spent in anxiety and desperation, for both Yuri, the Plisetsky family and Otabek.

This revelation that Yuri’s parents were alive set Otabek’s teeth on edge, but when he was released from Nikolai’s office, tasked with the objective to break the news to Yuri softly, Otabek decided to wait until after clubbing, and possibly after buying Yuri the Chevy Camaro he was eyeing for a few months.

Which they were currently behind schedule by two hours for. Knifing the edge of the speed limit, Otabek got them there in time to have a quick dinner and a few hours dancing before they had to pack up and go to bed (although Yuri was rather reproachful about having a bed time, Otabek had to remind him that they were going to be going to sign a contract for a new ’87 Chevy Camaro at 9 o’clock the next day and _Yuri didn’t want bags under his eyes now did he?_ )

Making their way from a small diner to the club, Otabek could tell Yuri was enjoying himself.

For both of them, the lack of mafia supervision was akin to the feeling of being on the brink of unconsciousness while being restrained underwater, then being gifted with the dizzying reprieve of oxygen. The constant fear of their lives and their relationship (both during the friendship and romance stages) often left them tense and frustrated – unhappy in their purgatory state of only breathing and not living.

As they walked street, Yuri’s hair loose, Otabek’s gun holsters swinging and their fingers intertwined in affection, Yuri was incredibly happy to be by Otabek’s side.

The clubs EDM could be heard through the door and Yuri felt the familiar hum of anticipation for clubbing, only for it to be amplified by Otabek’s presence, which had been more pronounced ever since the liberation of their not-so-friendship feelings.

Yuri liked to think as their feelings as a Molotov; two harmless parts of liquid and cloth, that when connected with fire, become marvellously dangerous. It was crude, unexperienced and explosive.

Yuri lost his thought when Otabek tugged him into the line, the only negative aspect of going somewhere no one knew them. At home, he went to the Plisetsky clubs and was immediately let in. Huffing in frustration, Yuri squeezed Otabek hand and got prepared to wait, when a familiar flash of yellow hair caught his vision. It was the same he saw in the mirror every morning. Glancing over, Yuri’s hand flew to splay across his chest and a shaky frown grew on his face.

“M-Momma?” he called, incredulously.

Otabek turned to see what Yuri was on about and followed his gaze, seeing the man who had shot him and his partner. Daniil and Anastayia. Before Otabek could do anything, Yuri was sprinting across the empty road and into the woman’s spread arms.

“Yuratchka!” she called.

Down the street the light turned green and Otabek lurched forward, he couldn’t allow for that _monster_ to lay her hands on his Yura. But before he could do anything, the street was filled with an influx of vehicles and he was stuck on the other side, watching as the family embraced.

***

Yuri stills, his parents staring back at him. His mother’s long blonde hair – yellower than his – is shorter than in his memory. Her eyes were duller in his memory as well. His father looks much the same, with dirty blondish hair and green eyes, but had a distinct hooked nose and darker skin.

“M-Momma?”

Yuri’s love for them was centred around despair. As if he was running a marathon and his whole body was giving in, but he needed to finish; to believe that his parents were standing there in front of him. So, he pushed, pushed, pushed. And his lungs ached, ached, ached. And his heart burned, burned, burned, until he collapsed through the finish line and into his parents waiting arms.

Yuri’s eyes watered when he inhaled to scent of his mother, something he hadn’t even realised he was missing from his scattered memories of her. He felt the firm hand of his father on his shoulder.

Yuri didn’t realise his father’s grip had turned to the sharp prick of a needle and his mother’s embrace transformed from smothering to suffocating until he was seeing black spots in his vision and hearing Otabek’s voice calling after him as he was dragged to a flashy cherry car at the side of the road.

Yuri blacked out before his parents slammed to door behind them, Otabek still stuck on the other side of the street.


	12. Camera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BANG!  
> BANG!

Otabek dialled Phichit’s number as fast as he could.

“Phichit, I need you to track a car heading south from Great Jones Street, they should me following in M-8 highway to a dirt path road called площадь. Please do it quickly; they just kidnapped Yuri!”

Otabek felt as if he was going to collapse. His knees were trembling, and his chest hurt. He couldn’t lose Yuri. HE COULD NOT!

Running to where he had parked his motorcycle earlier, he got on and ripped out of the street, going in the direction he remembered from when he had tracked the Plisetsky parents from the motel.

The cherry car had a head start and had already disappeared by the time Otabek go the highway, but he knew where he was going. Phichit assured him through text that Yuri’s parents were heading in the direction Otabek described. There was about an hour drive until he would arrive.

***

Yuri woke up in a brick cubicle type room and tape across his mouth.

He was chained to a wall and laying on a dirty mattress. He felt springs digging into his back. There was a video camera in front of him, a little red and blinking light told him that it was recording. There was a termite eaten, mouldy door to his left.

***

The door creaked open and Yuri turned and saw his Papa, looking up him down his nose as if the very idea of Yuri disgusted him. He walked in and was followed by Yuri’s momma with much the same expression on her face. His Papa walked up, kicked him in the gut and turned to the camera as Yuri was doubled over and coughing in pain. Papa pulled out a gun and placed it on Yuri’s forehead and spoke to the camera,

“If you want the bitch, you better listen to what I say!”

Chapter 12: Mattress

“If you want the bitch, you better listen to what I say!”

Yuri was stiff under the barrel of his Папа’s gun and felt his eye’s ache.

“I want reimbursement for everything this bitch caused, a hundred grand for caring for the burden for ten years,” his momma squeezed his neck, “another ten for Nathanial’s failed services,” Momma pushed him down on the mattress, “ten grand for the faggots in Miami” Yuri blanched at his Мама’s hand cupping him and the fact that they hired guys to assault him, “ten grand for building this prison, his mother tore his shirt open, “and we want it by next week Tuesday at 10 o’clock at night. We’ll met at the Saint Petersburg Conjunction Train Station.” With this, his Momma took a knife and dragged it down the centre of his chest and his Papa clicks the safety and shoves the gun in Yuri’s mouth. He will never forget the metallic taste in his mouth, the sharp sting down his chest and the shame his Мама’s hands are causing.

***

Momma and Papa leave him naked on the mattress in front of the streaming camera. He has no doubt that his grandfather has just witnessed the worst five minutes of his life, and while he is thankful that once they filmed the video, his parents left, he felt open, vulnerable and deeply disgusted in his current position. Yuri desperately wanted this to be over and silently begged Otabek to come, despite him resenting the need to be saved _again._

***

Otabek ran up the path, already out of breath in his desperation to get to Yuri. His guns were rhythmically bouncing off his sides from their place in his harness and he found the feeling reassuring; they would be the tools he will use to liberate Yuri from his parents. He couldn’t believe that he let this happen.

Otabek’s thoughts were broken by the shrill ringing of his phone. Slowing his pace only slightly he picked up to the voice of Nikolai.

“They’ve sent a video.” Nikolai bit out.

Otabek almost faltered in his running, incredibly scared by the news.

“What do they want?”

“Thirteen hundred thousand by next week Tuesday, I’m organising the money now.”

“Don’t bother, I’m going to save Yuri.” And with that, Otabek hung up and resumed his fastest pace.

***

Yuri pretended to sleep as his parents walked into his cell. He thought that if he had to look at them, he would do something he would regret. The door shut behind them, Yuri suppressed a shudder and listened.

“I called my father just now and he actually agreed.” Momma said, her high heels clicking as she walked over to Yuri’s mattress. “I didn’t think that brat was worth that much for all the trouble, god knows we went through more trouble just to get him off our hands. We should have gone for a higher price.”

Yuri’s throat tightened. He couldn’t believe that his parents faked their own deaths just to get away from him. He wasn’t the bad, was he?

“Yeah, always crying and complaining and wanting attention, what a whore.” Papa replied, his boots heavy as they joined Momma’s beside him.

“My father was such an ass for saying I had to keep him, he practically begged me – how pathetic! Don’t kill your child Anastayia! Keep him and I’ll take care of him Anastayia! Do it and you’re kicked out Anastayia! Jeeze, that old man needs a life.”

Yuri knew they knew he was awake in that moment, and Yuri knew that these words would always haunt him, just like Anastayia and Daniil wanted.

***

Otabek finally saw the barn in the distance and slowed down, planning his next move. He noticed a small door at the side of the building, close to where the brick cubicle had been located, and made is way in that direction. Hopefully it would be less noticeable than trying to make his way through the main entrance.

Carefully, his body crouched forward, he pushed open the door and looked inside. It was dark, considering it was close to midnight that was no surprise, but there was some light coming from the brick cubicle. Thinking back to what he saw in there before, he knew that was likely where Yuri was being kept right now.

Making his way over, Otabek overheard the tail end of a conversation between Anastayia and Daniil.

“…wanting attention, what a whore.”

“My father was such an ass for saying I had to keep him, he practically begged me – how pathetic! Don’t kill your child Anastayia! Keep him and I’ll take care of him Anastayia! Do it and you’re kicked out Anastayia! Jeeze, that old man needs a life.”

Otabek felt his gut clench with rage. How dare they talk about his Yura that way! But Otabek needed to be careful not to disregard his need for the surprise element when he was overwhelmed with rage, and with trembling hands and clenched teeth, quietly moved closer.

He waited for the couple to walk out from a door he noticed on his left.

When they walked out he shot them both.

BANG!

BANG!

Both screamed, Otabek hadn’t aimed for a kill shot so they were on the floor. He rushed up and disarmed them, chucking the guns he found across the barn. They landed with a clatter. Ignoring the swearing couple who were cursing him, he ran into the room to find Yuri curled up on the mattress. For a moment, Otabek thought he was dead and almost despaired, until he saw Yuri’s small, but certainty there, rise and fall of his chest.


	13. Motorcycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> '... but through his panic he couldn't help but let in shallow breaths.'

Yuri had heard the gun shots and his parents’ screaming and squeezed his eyes shut. He prayed that it was Otabek and not some rebel lackey his parents had hired here to kill all of them. When the door opened, Yuri tried to stay as still as possible, but through his panic he couldn’t help but let in shallow breaths.

“Yura?” Otabek asked, not sounding unsure but rather in wonderment.

Having heard his best friend’s voice, Yuri violently turned his body over and tried to stand up, desperate to get to familiarity. He was held back by the shackle tied around his wrist. Otabek stepped over and hugged Yuri after he ripped the tape from Yuri’s mouth. Gasping in a gulp of air, Yuri buried himself into Otabek’s shoulder and held in tears. While Yuri didn’t like to think of himself as someone weak, he had felt so scared and the relief of having Otabek near was so immense, he felt as if he was going to break from the incredible wave of emotions he was going through in that moment.

After a few tense moments of the tight hug and gasping breaths, Otabek pulled away and went to go get a key for Yuri’s hands. Once Yuri was released, Otabek tried to help him up, twinging his shot arm in the process, before supporting a weakened Yuri, who was struggling against the drugs that were still in his system; they were a lot more present now that he was standing. They walked out, and Yuri blanched at the sight of his parents It was just like that night six years ago, but right there in front of him; a recreation of his worst nightmares.

But they were still alive and Otabek assured Yuri that they would stay alive and that there was a team of mafia lackeys on their way to bring them back to the estate. Yuri wasn’t sure if he was relieved or burdened by this news. He in no way wanted his parent’s dead, but these weren’t the same people in his memory. _Although,_ Yuri supposed, _I have fabricated that a little._

When Yuri’s parents died, he created an image of a kind and loving family – a family that he could justify mourning. He hadn’t let himself linger of the reality of harsh words and sharp slaps. But now, seeing them lying before him, he felt the repressed memories come to the forefront of his mind and let out a whine. How could he be so delusional? At Yuri’s obvious distress, Otabek took him away and they started the long walk back to Otabek’s motorcycle and safety.

***

Yuri hid in Otabek’s back as he took Yuri away from the old farm house. Yuri was shaking and gasping, not quite comprehending what happened over the past few hours and how irrevocably he had changed. This experience would never leave him, and he doubted that it would ever leave Otabek either.

They ended up meeting a mafia team after half an hour driving on the highway, and once Otabek told instructed them about the state he had left Yuri’s parents in, they were taken into a sedan (Otabek’s motorbike would be towed in the back of a mafia truck) and they were on their way back to the Plisetsky estate.

When they arrived, they were met with teary welcomes from Victor and Yuuri, and a gruff hug from Nikolai, before being sent to Mrs. Gibson for a check-up. Once cleared by her, Otabek took Yuri to his room and they passed out wrapped up together.


	14. Epilogue: Old Heater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the start, or to the end.

They were laying on the bed, the occasional crack of the old heater the only sound in the room. Otabek’s hair was splayed against the white pillow and Yuri could just barely smell his cologne. Otabek looked ridiculously adorable with his grey sweater and a little bit of drool at the side of his mouth. Leaning forward, Yuri left a little kiss on the man’s cheek before snuggling into Otabek’s chest. It was at this moment that a surge of happiness and peace engulfed Yuri, and he never wanted it to go away.


End file.
